


The Needs of the Many

by secrethyperjets



Category: Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-05
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-26 23:07:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secrethyperjets/pseuds/secrethyperjets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The enemy of your enemy should be your friend, but things have never been that simple. Now Kim and Shego must face themselves, each other, and a threat that might not leave them with a world to fight over. Multi-fandom, mostly KiGo. Rated M for violence, language, and later adult content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Thanks for the lift, Aaron. You're a lifesaver."

"It's the least I could do, Kim. We would have had a real situation on our hands if you hadn't been there."

Kim Possible smiled wearily at the middle-aged gentleman who had so kindly ferried her across several blocks of Go City. The nearest operating hotel was a ten minute ride from the site of the collapsed apartment complex where she had spent the last eighteen hours. Although she would have been happy to walk, the firefighter could tell she was exhausted, and had all but strapped her to the back of his cruiser when she tried to politely decline.

"I can pick you back up in the morning, if you want?" Aaron offered as he took the spare helmet from her outstretched hand.

"Please and thank you." She smiled sweetly.

"Seven-thirty sound good?"

"I'll be ready."

"Get some sleep, kid. I'll see you in the morning."

Sleep. She missed sleep. She'd spent almost every day in a marathon of relief work since returning from her post-graduation beach trip, during which she managed to end up doing more volunteering than relaxing. Even though she was supposed to be on vacation, she just couldn't lie back and soak up the early summer sun while chunks of Lowardian battle drones were being pulled from the surf, especially when some of those doing the clean-up turned out to be supervillan goons. There was as little rest for the righteous as there was for the wicked, as it turned out. Always with the drama.

Kim wasn't sure why she had expected anything different, considering the heavy blows made to civilization by the Lowardians just ten days prior. The invasion, even though it hadn't lasted long, had done an astounding amount of damage to practically every inhabited region of the planet, and even a few uninhabited ones. Middleton had been hit particularly hard despite being a relatively small suburban area, and both her home and high school had been reduced to piles of rubble. Every available public space was now overflowing with families who had lost their homes to a parasitic swarm of Lowardian sentinels. Her own family had settled at a local community center a short distance from Middleton hospital, where her mother had been constantly on call.

It surprised Kim how quickly everything had happened. From the moment she had taken off her cap and gown, the Kimmunicator buzzed almost non-stop with requests for help with everything from rescue efforts to fund raisers. Even a few political candidates had the nerve to offer her starring roles in their publicity stunts, hoping to use the terrible situation and her latest surge in popularity to their advantage. She wasn't entirely certain how after little more than a week she had become the poster girl for planetary nationalism, but she hardly spent time thinking about it. Everything was on the Internet, after all.

Including Wade. Although all of Middleton had been suffering from intermittent blackouts and widespread Internet outages, her friend had managed to stay connected and in control without so much as a spike in latency. When Kim had asked, he had assured her that it was all perfectly legal and had nothing to do with patching into government satellites. She had dropped the conversation at that point, and all Wade had done was smile.

It was Wade who had lead her to Go City, after she had helped Middleton relief efforts restore enough communication and set up enough shelters to be able to handle things without her. The midtown area had been hit particularly hard, leaving many hotels past capacity and streets blocked by chunks of the surrounding destruction. In some places, the roads were in such a state of disarray that public service workers had to rely on mopeds and cruisers for transportation, much like the one she'd just watched pull away.

Now Kim stood in front of a modest-looking chain hotel, with her backpack weighing more heavily on her tired shoulders than she could ever remember. She wished she could go home and cuddle with Pandaroo after a long relaxing shower, but there was no home left to go back to, and most likely, no Pandaroo either. Her childhood friend was lost, somewhere in a pile of debris.

Passing through the revolving glass door, she felt a sudden pang of guilt for lamenting over her dearest cuddle buddy. The lobby was filled to capacity. Go City residents curled up in chairs, on sofas and on blankets cushioning the bright tile floor. Hotel employees refilled cups of complimentary coffee and several children were bickering over what channel should be on the television. A few refugees regarded her with tired, vacant eyes as she approached the counter, which was hosting a long line of prospective patrons. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as man in a blazer promptly broke off a conversation he was having in order to approach her.

"Excuse me," He began politely, "Are you Kim Possible?"

Kim nodded. "I am, though I think I might have the wrong address. A friend of mine told me there were rooms available here."

"No, no, we certainly have room for you. Please, follow me."

His words left her feeling uneasy, but she followed him anyway. He led her from the crowded lobby to the management office behind the main counter and shut the door.

"I'm Brian," He said with a brief shake of her hand before taking a seat at the computer at the center of the modest office arrangement. "I'm the manager on duty. Give me just a couple of minutes and I'll get you all set up. How long will you be staying?"

"Just overnight." She bit her lip. "I don't mean to be rude Brian, but I can't take a room away from all those other people." Kim gestured over her shoulder back to the lobby.

"Don't be silly, Ms. Possible," Brian insisted as he tapped quickly on the keyboard. "After everything you've done, not giving you somewhere to rest would be practically criminal."

"Oh, anyone could have survived alien abduction." She countered with a dismissive wave.

"I just..."

"I insist." Brian interrupted, plucking two plastic key cards from the printer and slipping them into logo-emblazoned sleeves. Kim accepted them with reluctance, turning the cards over in her hands.

"You'll be on the third floor, room 309. If there's absolutely anything me or my staff can do to make you more comfortable, Ms. Possible, don't hesitate to ask."

She nodded, her conscience still battling her desire to please as she turned back to the door.

"Oh, Ms. Possible?"

"Hm?"

Brian approached her slowly, producing a copy of NEWSTIME magazine and a permanent marker.

"Could I bother you to sign this for my daughter? She's such a fan. It would mean a lot."

Kim could feel the heat in her face quickly rising. "Oh, um...sure!" She removed the cap from the marker and propped the magazine against the door.

"What's her name?"

"Madeline."

A few quick scribbles, and she returned the book to him with a smile, still blushing.

"Thank you, you really are as amazing as everyone says you are."

Now Kim's ears were burning. "It's no big, really. Thanks for your help."

"It was my pleasure. Please, enjoy your stay!"

Closing the door, Kim sighed and puffed at the stray waves of red hanging over her cheek. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep knowing so many would be spending the night curled up on the hard lobby floor. But if she didn't at least shower soon, she'd likely tear her skin off just to relieve the feeling of being soaked in dust and sweat. Luckily, a small voice from a few feet away made up her mind on the situation.

"Momma," The tiny girl pleaded, looking up at her young mother trying to balance a whimpering infant and a cellular phone.

"You've got to be kidding! You're the eighth place I've called, and you're full too?"

"Momma,"

"I know it's an emergency, but what am I supposed to do? Where are my children supposed to sleep?"

"Momma!"

The brunette pulled the phone away from her ear with irritation, snapping at her other child, who looked no more than two.

"What!"

The little girl pointed at Kim, who smiled her best as the mother of two met her eyes, and then flushed a deep crimson red as she approached.

"Sorry to intrude, but...here," Kim offered the second card key to the woman, who continued to stare at her as if she had two heads. "This is for room 309. If you can give me thirty minutes, it's all yours."

"Um," The woman stared at the card, then at Kim, and back again. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Oh...I...o-okay." She suddenly seemed to be choking on her own voice. "T-thank you."

"No big deal, really." Kim moved towards the elevator, but stumbled when the two-year-old latched onto her leg and squeezed.

"Trisha!" Her mother scolded, "I'm sorry..."

"It's okay!" Kim smiled and crouched to give the little girl a brief hug, patting her head before hustling off to the elevator.

Trisha waved goodbye, and then smiled up at her mother after Kim had left. "Momma?"

"What is it, sweetie?"

"I wanna be like Kim Possible!"

 

***

 

Almost exactly thirty minutes later, Kim stepped onto the roof of the hotel building, closing the access door behind her. A quick shower and a change of clothes was all she'd needed to rejuvenate herself from the day's effort. She made sure leave the room as if she'd never used it, dropping her used towels on a housekeeping cart and snatching up a few extra bottles of soap and shampoo to replace the used ones which were tucked into her backpack.

With a smile, Kim dropped the well-loved luggage on the concrete surface of the rooftop, and settled down in front of it, leaning back and stretching her legs out in front of her. The evening was temperate with a small, comfortable breeze, and a few stars twinkled through the interference of city lights. With the exception of the sounds of traffic in the distance, her rooftop spot was calm and peaceful.

She had almost begun to doze when the Kimmunicator came to life, chiming and blinking for her attention. "What's the sitch?" She answered out of habit, without looking at the screen.

"KP!"

"Hi Ron," She replied as she lifted the screen to eye level, smiling at the pale blond boy on the other end. "Whats up?"

"Oh, nothin..." He rubbed the back of his head, giving his best nonchalant shrug. "Just wanted to say hi. Boyfriends still do that, don't they?"

"I think so." She propped her head in her unoccupied hand. "How are things in Middleton?"

"Eh, okay. There's a serious lack of Kim, though."

The redhead sighed, running fingers through her half-dried locks. "I know..."

"I've put up signs and stuff but, no one seems to know where I can find one."

Kim chewed her lip, silently hoping he wasn't going to push the subject of her complicated schedule. The last thing she felt like doing right now was to pretend not to argue. It was true, she'd been occupied almost constantly since their graduation ceremony, save for a couple of evenings spent with friends celebrating on the beach. The situation was far from ideal, especially since she'd spent nearly a week reassuring him that graduation wasn't going to spell the end of their relationship. Alien invasion and global catastrophe, though, hadn't helped their cause.

Ron hadn't been happy when she told him she'd volunteered to help Go City relief, mostly because he was tied into his family's efforts in Middleton. The Stoppables had truly risen to the needs of their neighbors, bringing together members of the Jewish community to gather needed supplies, provide shelter and offer a sense of security for those displaced by the invasion. When Kim had left, Mr. Stoppable had already organized a group of volunteers to begin repairing damaged homes and raise funds to help those who would have to relocate entirely. Middleton was in good hands, though that did very little to ease the already uneasy situation between Kim and her boyfriend.

"I'm sorry," She continued, "I'll be home as soon as I can."

"KP?"

"Yeah?"

"I miss you."

She smiled at that, albeit a little sadly, and wished he were there in person so she could hug him tight.

"I miss you too."

"Maybe I could come up there, you know?" He began uneasily, "Just for a day or two, I dunno, maybe we could ta-"

 _KABOOM_.

Kim jumped to her feet and whipped around quickly, looking for the source of the disastrous sound. She watched in astonishment as, several blocks away, a ball of fire shattered outwards from a high-story building, sending burning trails of hot debris flying in every direction. The surrounding structures were suddenly bathed in enraged shades of orange and green.

 _Green_ _?_ _A_ _chemical_ _fire_ _...?_  She wondered,  _Or_ _..._

"KIM!" Ron's voice echoed from the device in her hand. "What the hell was that? Are you okay?"

"Ron, there's been some kind of explosion downtown," She held out the Kimmunicator briefly for him to see. The building belched out another wave of fire and smoke.

"Holy shit!"

"Yeah," Her expression grew hard as she simultaneously wondered who could be heartless enough to attack a city already in pieces, and hoped she didn't already know the answer.

"I gotta go, I'll call you back later."

"KP, please ...be careful!"

"Always am," She ended the call abruptly, shoving the device into her pocket as she grabbed her backpack and ran to the edge of the hotel roof. Sirens of different octaves had already begun to howl in the distance as she jumped into the dark, fired her grappling hook onto the adjacent building's fire escape and swung gracefully down to the alley below.

 

***

Tossing thanks over her shoulder, Kim jumped from the side of the fire engine she'd intercepted and stared upwards at the still churning structure fire. Go City emergency services were already at the scene, pumping long streams of water into the blaze while the frantic residents spilled into the street from every door. The flames reaching upward from the broken windows had mostly lost their greenish hue, returning instead to their typical hot autumn palette.

Kim's eyes roamed the rooftops, the columns of smoke and the skirts of the crowd for any signs of what, or who, may have been responsible for the blast. When nothing unusual seemed evident, she turned away, ran towards the edge of the building and ducked into the shadowed alley between it and its neighbor.

 _If_ _it_ **was**   _you_ _,_ Kim thought,  _You_ _'_ _d_ _know_ _better_ _than_ _to_ _use_ _the_ _front_ _entrance_ _._

Agile limbs scaled a nearby dumpster and used the boost to clear a chain-link fence separating her from the rest of the alley and rear of the building. Momentum pushed her away from the ground and down the concrete tunnel in a seamless series of muscle movements, leaving her mind free to take in the maximum amount of data. She slid to a brief stop at the junction of the two paths and, seeing nothing immediately alarming to her left, continued ahead to the visible end of the alley.

The screeching of tires and blaring of horns in front of her pushed her pace into a hard sprint, and she quickly scaled a second fence separating her from the street beyond. The distressed automobile quickly righted itself as it continued on its way, opening the otherwise empty block to Kim's view.

 _There_.

The street was lined with parked vehicles lit dimly by streetlights, and beyond the curb a row of stout concrete dividers and the expanse of an empty public parking area. It would be a normal landscape for a city at night, if it were not for the brilliant green fireball casting supernatural lime-colored shadows across the far end of the lot.

 _What_   
_the_   
_hell_   
_?_

"Shego...?"

The name fell out of her mouth heavily as she attempted to process the scene at hand. It was most definitely her archenemy, but hardly the cackling battle-ready valkyrie she thought she might find. Shego's entire body seemed to be engulfed in green plasma, brighter than Kim had ever seen. As she jogged closer, she could feel the intense heat of the churning alien light. Sweat had already begun to bead on her forehead by the time she was close enough to notice that, judging by her posture, Shego was weakened and struggling to hold herself upright.

The green woman was barley standing, her right arm leaning heavily on one of the lot dividers while the other seemed to be attempting to hold closed what remained of a heavily burnt bathrobe. It wasn't until a piece of the garment fell to the ground and smoldered that Kim realized that her rival was almost entirely naked, save for a few conveniently placed chunks of what used to be fabric that were quickly shrivelling into ashen sheets.

"Shego!" Kim raised her voice as she repeated the name and began to move closer, waiting for the villaness to respond. The burning woman groaned, lifting her head just enough to look at Kim through lengths of raven hair. Her eyes, usually a brilliant shade of emerald, were now almost completely red, as if every blood vessel had burst simultaneously. Kim's emotions twisted in her gut, unsure whether to be ready for a trap or genuinely worried about her rival's condition. She'd never seen Shego in such a state, nor had she ever known the woman to do anything so public without an escape plan. Or clothes. If Kim knew anything about Shego, it was that she held herself to ridiculously high standards of performance.

But Kim had landed enough blows against the woman to know she wasn't flawless, either. So what had happened? Foul play? Had Shego crossed the wrong person, or had the wrong person crossed Shego? Was someone watching from the dark, waiting for Kim to take the bait? Or was Shego just trying out some new, twisted mind game so she could finally kill the teen hero and leave the villain business on a high note?

There were too many questions, Kim decided. So she chose the best option for her own survival. She pushed down her more charitable urges until she knew more about the situation and kept her distance, although concern continued to gnaw at her insides.

"Figures this would...be the f-first time..you see me naked..." The exhausted but ever-cynical green woman managed.

"Shego!" Kim insisted. "What's going on?"

"No idea," Shego managed, and then slipped to the ground entirely. Her shoulders heaved as if she were going to vomit, and apparently she had, but the end product immediately burned in the heat of her firey shield, causing her cough out clouds of thick white vapor.

"Ugh..."

"Shego..." Kim repeated, taking a few more steps forward and reaching out with extreme hesitation, only to be shoved backwards by an invisible pressure from Shego's flames.

"Doy," Shego remarked, and then heaved again.

"Didn't mommy teach you...not to play with fire..?"

The redhead sprung back to her feet as quickly as she had been knocked off of them, reflexively assuming a defensive stance.

"I'm not here to play," She shot back, beginning to slowly circle her adversary.

"Where's Drakken? Or is this some kind of new solo thing you're trying?"

Shego shook her head, doubling over onto herself, with her forehead on her knees.

"No...Doctor D...oh,  _god_..."

"So you  _are_  working alone?"

She shook her head again, "No, I...Doctor D...I c-couldn't stop..."

"Stop what? Being evil? There's a big surprise."

"NO..." Shego yowled. "God, if you would just...AGH!"

Before she could finish, Shego tucked her forehead even more tightly to the ground and surged with heat, forcing Kim to cover her face. The heat wave stung the redhead's eyes, sending saline trickling down her reddened cheeks. When she looked back, the plasma had ebbed, yet still churned around its mistress as if it were feeding on her remains.


	2. Passengers

When Kim woke up, she couldn't see. Her eyelids moved when she blinked, her toes wriggled in her sneakers and her hair tickled her skin as it slid across her face, but the room was so dark it took her other senses to establish she'd regained consciousness at all.

She was bound. Her arms refused to move despite her attempt to lift herself from the hard metallic floor, and though she was aware of the movement of her fingers against the small of her back, she couldn't feel the fingers themselves. With a bit of twisting, Kim was able to roll over, bring her wrists over her ankles and reorient her hands. Her shoulders protested the gymnastic move with angry pops, but a swift click of her neck to the right allowed her shoulders to roll forward and her stiffened muscles to relax. She was cold. Her hair felt damp. Her wrists were tied so tightly that she could just barley touch the tips of her nails to the pads of the fingers on the opposite hand.

A sudden lurch in her surroundings sent her tumbling to the floor again, smacking her right brow hard against the floor. She heard the rattling of metal, the faint churning of an engine. She was moving. But where was she going? And who was delivering?

As Kim sat up again, cursing the bruise on her face, the clatter of plastic drew her attention to her hip, where the single green LED of her Kimmunicator blinked so brightly her eyes ached to adjust as she fumbled to pull the device into her fingers. Pulling her knees to her chest, she propped the device up on them to clumsily poke at the keypad. As the screen was triggered, casting an ambient glow across her lap, she could see well enough to press her right index knuckle against the first speed dial.

Wade's image appeared almost immediately. "Hey Kim, what..." He paused. "Where are you?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," She shrugged, a shiver running up her exposed midriff and spreading goosebumps across her skin. She lifted her hands to the screen and wiggled her fingers slightly.

"A little help?"

"On it, hold still..."

"Please and thank you."

An antennae extended from behind the Kimmunicator's battery pack, and Wade used a joystick to aim a thin red laser at her bindings. The plastic wire split and fell into her lap, and she groaned as blood began to finally reach her fingertips. With the light shining on her gloves, she could see the charred and melted material seemed to form a second skin against her own. And as her circulation restored, the digits rapidly began aching.

"Looks like the thermal pads in your gloves got maxed out." Wade suggested while taking a sip of soda. "Which is weird, because the material was designed for insulating emergency equipment on the international space station."

Kim bit her lip and listened to the crunch of her ruined gloves. She remembered what had happened with Shego in the parking lot, how she'd collapsed still burning and relying on little more than instinct and good intentions, Kim had pulled her into a fountain on the neighboring street in attempt to extinguish the flames.

"Well, nothing seems broken, that's a good sign." She offered weakly, wincing as her fingernails throbbed.

"I connected the temperature sensors in your wristband to a numbing agent. It probably released all at once when they overloaded."

"Would it be enough to knock me out?"

"Theoretically. Why?"

"I just woke up in here about five minutes ago."

"Mm, remind me to install some kind of dose regulation system when we get around to replacing those. The effect won't last forever, but it should keep any pain to a minimum while you find your way out of there." He paused. "Speaking of, let me do a quick GPS triangulation. I should be able to tell you where you are."

"You're the best, Wade." She smiled warmly, rose to her feet, and switched on the Kimmunicator's flashlight.

The chamber was piled high with boxes that left claustrophobically little space for Kim to move around. The small portion of the wall left visible was seamless, negating any attempt to escape. She moved forward slowly, inspecting the ceiling for any sort of outlet, while Wade's keystrokes echoed from her hand.

"Looks like you're on the interstate, about thirty-five miles south of Go City."

"Any idea where we're headed?"

"I'd need more information to be able to tell you, but at the speed you're moving, you'll be in New Mexico by morning."

The trailer lurched, and a shifting in the shadows drew her attention to the floor. She scooped up her backpack with a feeling of relief, which quickly disappeared when she saw what lie a few inches away. A motionless green and black body.

"...Shit."

"Kim?"

"Hold that thought." Kim replied before kneeling beside Shego and rolling her over, cradling her jaw and probing for a pulse. The Kimmunicator sprouted tripod legs and elevated for a better view.

"Is that Shego?" Wade's eyes widened.

"She's alive," Kim answered, leaning back and shaking Shego's shoulders firmly.

"Uh...w-why is she um..."

The redhead blinked, and then realized her jostling had provided Wade with a rather ample view of Shego's state of dress.

"Wade!" She scolded, her face growing hot.

"Sorry!" He switched off the Kimmunicator's video feed, leaving only the dull glow of the screen. Kim turned her attention back to Shego, trying valiantly to keep her eyes above the other woman's collarbones. After a bit more shaking and name-calling failed to bring her around, Kim drew her hand back and slapped her rival across the face. Shego's expression contorted unpleasantly and she groaned like a she-bear disturbed from a nap.

"...Fuck!"

The redhead grinned in relief, trying not to laugh. Shego rose to her elbows and opened her eyes, squinting as they adjusted and she realized the very strange situation she appeared to be in. The two simply stared at each other for a moment, before Shego grimaced and let her head fall back against a crate.

"...ugh," She groaned, "I have got to be more careful about who I take drinks from."

Kim rolled her eyes, "Nice to see you, too."

A bizarre few minutes later, Kim found herself once again staring at the ceiling as a now unbound and upright Shego slipped into a pair of track shorts and a zip-up sweatshirt donated from Kim's conveniently airtight, waterproof backpack. They were by no means a perfect fit, but snug modesty was far better than none at all.

Kim spoke first, having glanced at the other woman in time to see her pulling the sweatshirt over a strange, nasty-looking wound on the back of her shoulder.

"How'd that happen?"

Shego paused briefly, but chose not to respond. She flipped her hair over the back of the garment and changed the subject.

"You know you're not getting these back?"

Kim shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Any idea who might want to throw us in a truck and drive us to New Mexico?"

"Who wouldn't?" Shego remarked as she rose to her feet and walked to the adjacent wall.

"What's that mean?"

"Well, you've got entire subculture that would love to have you out of the way..."

Kim watched as Shego ran her hands over the surface of the wall.

"I'm not exactly miss popularity as of late either," she added.

"That's not vague at all." The redhead teased. "Totally helpful."

"Look, pumpkin. Let's just get out of here so you can go back to whatever photo shoot you're late for and I'll go back to all those things I do that aren't any of your business."

"If you're going to go flame-streaking through downtown again, I'd say it's my business." Kim countered. "You're welcome, by the way."

"For what? Your knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time?" Shego scoffed. "Stop flattering yourself."

Kim puffed indignantly. " You could at least pretend to be grateful. I saved your life. "

"What, you don't have enough with the entire world licking your toes, you need me to do it too?"

"I never said that." The redhead rose to her feet, and began closing the darkened distance between herself and Shego. "But a simple thank you wouldn't hurt."

"Go fuck yourself."

Kim made a face. "What's your problem?"

"YOU are my problem." The villaness spat.

"The only reason I'm in this situation is because I tried to help you."

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I didn't NEED your help?" Shego turned on her, but Kim stood firm in her ground.

"Oh, right, because setting off a bomb in a high-rise and then wandering around naked in a ball of fire is TOTALLY your M.O.," Kim tilted her chin defiantly. "Don't you think I know you a little better by now?"

"You DON'T know me." Shego countered, green light beginning to shine from her hands again.

"Maybe I would if you'd just-"

"Just what?" She continued coldly, "We are not friends, Kimmie. We can never be friends. So save your sweet little do-gooder concerns for someone who cares."

Kim's eyes widened at the darkness in Shego's voice. The plasma that burned brightly in Shego's hands lit her face from below. Dark circles enveloped her wild green eyes and twisted her once flawless beauty into something sunken and fiendish. She looked tattered, beaten and run weary with pain.

"Shego," Kim wondered aloud, "...what happened to you?"

Shego responded by rotating on her heel, throwing her arm forward and releasing a bolt of plasma that tore open the trailer of the semi. The vehicle rocked violently as the trailer began to swing with the momentum of the blast, the crates inside toppled and crunched into one another, and the metal housing groaned as it warped from Shego's intense heat. Kim struggled to stay on her feet, reaching out to catch her Kimmunicator as it was thrown from the box she'd set it upon minutes before.

"Kim!" Wade's image blinked back into view. "What just happened?"

"Shego just happened!"

The tires of the eighteen-wheeler howled across the pavement as its driver struggled to maintain control. Shego made use of her self-imposed exit, took a wide step out onto the vehicle's bulbous fuel tank and another to the driver's side door. The goon at the wheel employed a massive double-take before Shego ruthlessly threw her elbow through the open window and into his throat, rendering him helpless to being pulled out of the cabin. As soon as she landed in the driver's seat, her hand flew to the neck of the passenger, which she squeezed with very little sympathy.

"Who hired you?" She roared as she pressed her bare foot firmly into the accelerator.

The goon wriggled in her strong grip and choked on gulps of air. He reached across the console in attempt to retaliate, prompting Shego to slam his head down firmly into the dashboard.

"Answer me!"

The man warbled in panic as blood began to seep out of his misaligned nose.

"D-d-d.." He croaked. "Dementor! Dementor!"

"Where is he!"

"I-I don't know!"

His face collided with the dash again, leaving a dark, wet crimson streak.

"I swear!" He gurgled, his Henchco goggles now twisted out of place. "I swear I don't know!"

In the trailer, Kim bobbed and weaved to dodge the crates threatening to sandwich her between their jostling masses. She used her grappling hook to pull herself out of the glowing hole left in Shego's wake, and flipped upwards onto the roof.

"Kim," Wade implored, barely audible over the howling wind.

"The load is still moving faster than the tractor; the whole thing's gonna jackknife if you don't disconnect the coupling."

"In English, Wade!"

"You've got to pull out the pin that connects the trailer to the truck or you're in serious trouble!"

"Got it," Kim replied, jumping down into the space between the speeding vehicle and its crooked, wobbling body. She tethered herself to the passenger-side smoke-stack and, holding firmly to her grappling gun, bent over the edge of the truck. She kicked the heel of her sneaker firmly into the quivering metal rod and yelped as she retrieved her leg just before the mechanism disconnected.

"W-we were just supposed to take the junk to the desert," The passenger goon cowered under Shego's grip.

"What kind of junk?"

"I-I don't-!"

His face impacted the dash a third time and he howled.

"Next time it's the windshield, buddy!" Shego threatened.

"Aliens!" The man sobbed. "Please! It's just all the crazy broken pieces of those alien things! I don't know why he wants them!"

With the ear-piercing screech of weighted steel and moving concrete, the trailer and all its contents dislodged from the speeding truck and immediately tumbled sideways, flipped and sent a wave of bright sparks up into the night. The sudden jerk of the tractor unit flung Kim off her feet and for half a second, sent her tumbling towards the merciless pavement. Her lifeline pulled taught and swung her around to the front of the cabin. She landed on her feet against the engine compartment, grappling-gun in hand and attached to the semi like the winner of a strange, high-speed vehicular rodeo.

Shego glanced out the windshield briefly, and then jerked the wheel hard to the right, skirting the border of pavement and the shallow ditch that lay beyond. Kim held fast to her tether and pushed her weight into her shoes to keep from being thrown off.

"Shego!"

The green woman's attention returned to the snivelling hired hand in her strangle-hold.

"Get out," She commanded. The man nodded, immediately opening the door and tumbling down into the grass without looking back. Kim swiftly took his seat, pulled the door shut and turned on Shego, her hair windswept and scented none-too-faintly of exhaust.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"It's debatable," Shego answered.

"For all you know those crates could have been full of rocket fuel, you could have killed us both!"

"I didn't."

The redhead sighed, running her fingers through her hair and holding them briefly at the base of her skull.

"Kim, you okay?" Wade once again called from her pocket.

"Yeah," She responded exasperatedly, "No thanks to someone who will remain nameless."

Shego extended her hand and presented Kim a rude gesture, which she swatted away.

"Well, the good news is, I was able to capture an image of the trailer before it tipped," Wade continued. "I'm running the logo through my database now, it shouldn't take long. I'll call you back when I find something."

"I'll be here," Kim replied, tucked the device away and leaned back into the upholstery.

Another long silence followed. The empty freeway and lampless cabin prevented Kim from sidelong study of Shego's face. She wished the older woman would say something-anything-to relieve the morbid curiosity bubbling up where her adrenaline subsided.

Kim believed that, on some wordless level, she had an idea of the person called Shego. They had fought hundreds of times, memorized the other's every technique, learned to read and predict the subtleties of breathing and eye movement and shifting of weight. She looked forward to the challenge each time they met, because she knew they did battle as peers entangled in a strange, restricted camaraderie. She'd never connected with anyone else quite how she had, or thought she had with Shego. Their dynamic was entirely unique. She wasn't sure if she'd experience anything like it again; She wasn't sure if anyone had, or ever would after her.

So was it naive of Kim to equate their weird situation as a kind of friendship? Was she just a meddling kid, stepping into someone else's life and getting in the way? Was the invisible sensation that Shego needed something just her ego sensing another challenge to overcome?

The person in question rolled her shoulder and reached across her chest to probe at the problem area, giving Kim an idea.

"How's the shoulder?"

Shego glanced at her briefly, replaced her hand on the wheel, and remained silent. Kim propped her feet on the dashboard.

"It looked pretty nasty. I thought you healed up faster than most people?"

Shego puffed air through her nostrils, but didn't respond.

"Is that one of those things that wears down as you get older? 'Cause if it is, tell me. I don't want to feel bad for bruising up an old lady..."

The strike came much more quickly than Kim had anticipated, but Shego had taken the bait. As the woman's right arm extended, Kim pulled the reclining lever she'd located on the side of the seat. A second later, she'd tucked Shego's arm backwards under her own and pressed the opposite elbow into the back of her neck, effectively locking her in place.

"Princess!" Shego snarled. "What the hell?"  
"Oh shut up," The redhead scolded, "I'm not hurting you."

"I'm driving!"

"Yeah, 'cause you were real worried about road safety ten minutes ago." Kim rolled her eyes and jerked down on the neck of the hoodie she'd loaned out, inviting herself to inspect the abrasion Shego was so adamant not to talk about. So startled was she by the blackening, spider-like mark that her hold apparently weakened enough for Shego to reclaim her arm and drive her elbow into Kim's gut. The teen immediately doubled over, and Shego righted her cover and zipped it to the neck.

"Okay...I deserved that." Kim conceded after catching her breath.

"You deserved worse." The driver muttered.

"Seriously, though..." Kim pressed, "What the hell is that?"

Shego took a deep, thoughtful breath, her eyes firmly on the road. Finally, gravely, she answered.

"I don't know, pumpkin...but it's killing me."


	3. Chapter 3

The housing of the abandoned cargo enclosure had just begun to cool, the edges of its exploded wall still glowing slightly with green heat, when the light of an oncoming vehicle cast shadows along its warped surface. A motorcycle slowed to a stop, and its rider dismounted in order to inspect the cargo's remains.

Tall, lean and androgynous, dressed entirely in white, the figure stared silently into the gaping chasm left by the container's former prisoners. With slow, calculated movements, a small mechanism hidden beneath its left ear was twisted and activated. The squeal of white-noise preceded a storm of electronic sound such that the animals in the surrounding forest began to wail their displeasure. Howls and chirps and the flutter of fleeing wings masked a metallic shuffling responding within the cargo housing.

Inside, the crates that had bent and broken after the container hit pavement splintered even further. Their contents morphed and shifted, and then trickled out of every available opening. They multiplied; a few became a dozen, a dozen became a hundred, and within seconds of the electric beckon-call a river of black droplets poured from the wounded container, searching for the source of the sound. Like a headless metal snake, the pieces slithered as a unit towards the white figure, over its boots, up its leg, and into its back, using its spine as a ladder in order to reach their destination.

The cyclist bowed its head, providing room for the liquid serpent. The stream joined at a point and plunged into the back of the host's shoulders, wriggling and collecting back into a sticky, innocuous puddle that grew and stretched until the entire cascade had gathered there, then sunk into its bodysuit and vanished.

Seemingly satisfied, it moved to return to the still-running vehicle, until the crunch of plastic and woven fiber underfoot drew its attention to the ground. The khaki-colored backpack was quickly seized and torn open, allowing the contents to spill unceremoniously to the ground. The pile of belongings was considered one at a time, as if being scanned individually for specific criterion.

Of all the objects now spilt across the pavement, the explosive makeup, the ether-laden perfume, the Middleton High School lanyard with its expired student ID, the figure gingerly reached for a rectangle of old paper, dusty and smudged from being tucked into a pocket and lost, but not forgotten. Slowly, with an intrigued tilt of its helmet, it unfolded the scrap to reveal a series of small square photographs. Two young human women, making a series of faces against the same blank backdrop, becoming progressively sillier and closer in proximity as the pictures continued. The figure seemed to consider the younger of the two, pale and freckled with a swath of red hair, and then crunched the memento in its fist.

Target has made contact with Kim Possible, it reported in an unknown dialect into a receiver inside its helmet. Almost immediately, a response was received, in the same chortling, throaty language.

Proceed to objective. Rogue element Possible, Kim...expendable.

All additional life forms...expendable.

***

"Killing you?" Kim echoed Shego's reply. "Tell me you mean that figuratively."

"Maybe," Shego shrugged, resting her left elbow on the windowsill.

"You're awfully nonchalant for maybe."

The green woman sighed and swiped a hand through her hair. "Priorities, princess."

"You've got some pretty screwed up priorities, then."

"Yeah, let's you and I not have that discussion."

"Why?"

"Maybe I just don't want to?"

"You don't want to, or just won't with me?"

"Pick one."

Kim leaned back in her seat, breaking her eyes away from Shego and sighing in frustration. Idly looking down at her hands, she could see the inflamed, angry skin between the cracks of her gloves. Each time her fingers moved, no matter how gently, the burns rubbed and ached. Moreso at the moment, since she'd earned them doing a service whose recipient didn't seem the least bit grateful.

Shego glanced to the passenger's seat when Kim actually remained quiet, her eyes drawn to the fray of fabric she was picking at. The redhead peeled away a strip of cloth, her breath audibly trembling with discomfort.

"Whats wrong with your hand?" Shego initiated. Kim glanced at her from the corner of her eye.

"Priorities." She rebounded, tucking her wounds a bit closer where Shego couldn't see.

Shego smirked. "Then you've got some pretty screwed up priorities."

Kim found the expression both endearing and obnoxious, much like the way Shego held her head when she was being a smartass. "I thought we weren't discussing those."

"Not mine, pumpkin, yours."

"Ah, well...no arguments there."

"So what happened?"

Kim shrugged, rolling the words around in her mouth before saying them. "After you blacked out, you were still burning...I couldn't just leave you there, so..."

In her pocket, the Kimmunicator buzzed, and she quickly reached for it, thankful for the brief distraction. Noting the caller ID, she silenced it just as quickly and tucked it away again.

Shego noticed the movement, but chose to ignore it. "So it's my fault."

Kim shrugged again. "It was my decision. You didn't force me to do it. It's no big deal."

"It is."

"Why?"

"Because, if I'm going to hurt you, it damn well better be on my terms."

Kim hummed lightly with amusement at that. "I feel so comforted."

"You should."

"I do. Because now that you've acknowledged it happened, you owe it to me to tell me the rest."

Shego balked. "You're kidding."

"Note serious face?"

"Looks more like smug little brat face."

"Doesn't matter. You've acknowledged fault, so you owe me." Kim smiled, amused, turning a bit in her seat towards the center console. "So spill."

With a quiet grump, Shego stared out at the highway, resting her cheek in her opposite hand. She wondered if she avoided eye contact long enough, Kim would lose interest and go away. Unfortunately, just as the thought had passed, she glanced back to the passenger's seat to find herself inundated by the puppy-dog pout.

"Oh, god, stop that!"

The teenager grinned widely. "So..."

"So..." Shego sighed, "Shit hit the fan this afternoon..."

***

Go City Civic Center, Five hours ago...

"...and so, it is my honor to present this award for distinguished civil service award to Doctor Andrew Lipsky!"

The presentation hall erupted into applause. A few members of the audience even rose to their feet as the large medallion was extended towards Dr. Drakken. On the opposite side of the podium, Shego watched bemusedly as her long-time employer recoiled from the offering as if it were rigged to explode. The ribbon slid around his neck, and he looked down to watch the light glint off the award's polished surface, his eyes wide like a mesmerized child. So distracted was the doctor by the shiny metal object, the presenter had to shove him towards the podium.

Drakken's face visibly devolved from wonder to panic as he realized that the cheering crowd was expecting him to say something. His color changed from blue to a strange purple hue as he flushed with embarrassment. Shego rolled her eyes. Of course the man who practically made his living giving long, elaborate and silly speeches would lock up when people were actually willing to listen.

"Doctor D," As Shego hissed through her straining smile, she wished the cameras would stop flashing. Her face was beginning to hurt. "Do something!"

Drakken turned to her with his mouth hanging open, looking positively ridiculous. It was then that the gnarled mutant vine that he had tucked into his shirt collar poked its blossom out and extended to wind around her, pulling her close to his side. The crowd was obviously intrigued, as the awkward silence that had begun to fall turned into oohs, aahs and a new surge of photography. The two held an awkward stare before Shego grabbed his chin and turned his face back towards the audience. She could practically hear other villains in attendance snickering at the sight. The whole display must have looked so undignified.

But she endured it, and later, was very thankful that the reception had an open bar. Not only did she hold a deep loathing for these types of functions, she also resented having to stand among dozens of small-talking bureaucrats who would just as soon have her locked into a dark room than congratulate her on saving the planet. In her opinion, they were all nothing more than professional liars. In fact, she had a sneaking suspicion that at any moment every riot cop in the city would be charging in the door.

Shego knew she could take out as much law enforcement as Go City could afford to throw at her without breaking a sweat. But unlike most days, she was hoping the situation wouldn't present itself. The ceremony, however false and thinly-veiled, was for Drakken, who had seemed genuinely moved by the invitation and as if he were truly considering retiring from villainy. He had seemed happier in the past few days than she had seen him in a long time, and should the celebration take a turn for the worst, it sure as hell wasn't going to be her fault. Not directly, at least.

That having been said, standing by the door in heels and sipping vodka and tonic seemed like it was taking an abhorrent amount of concentration. Shego was feeling terribly irate, though Drakken was none the wiser. He'd been so wrapped up in his own business he likely wouldn't have noticed even if she'd retched right on his shoes, and she was happy to keep it that way. She jingled the cubes of ice in her glass, quickly knocked back the remaining liquor, and continued scanning the crowd.

Much as she figured, the non-villains in attendance were slowly trickling out of the twin double-doors at the north and southeast of the room. Drakken still chattered obliviously with Senors Senior and Junior while waving around some fluorescent pink beverage complete with fruit on a skewer and a little yellow umbrella. Camille Leon and Adrena Lynn seemed to be engaged with DNAmy and her Monkeyfist statuary, and behind them, a certain stocky German the sight of which so enraged Shego the remaining moisture in her empty glass evaporated and the surface began to crack.

She wasn't at all surprised Dementor had shown up. But unlike the rest of the villainous assortment, Shego was certain he was as aware of the impending trap as she was. And though the possibility existed that he too made the appearance as a gesture of bad-guy camaraderie, it was much more likely he was only there to piss her off.

Setting her now damaged glass on the edge of the nearest table, Shego smoothed her dress and began a predatory circle around the room. She entertained herself with the thought of lighting up and lunging at him, fulfilling the promise she'd made to kill him if she ever saw him again. But full frontal assaults in crowded rooms just weren't her style. Neither was murder, but since their last encounter, the thought of ripping the oily smirk off Dementor's face had brought her no small amount of joy.

Dementor looked up from his conversation, and the two made eye contact. He offered her a knowing smirk and a tip of his glass, and her mouth twitched in more of a sneer than a smile. Shego's fingertips ached from the effort not to ignite. He brought his glass to his mouth without breaking her gaze, and took a deep drink of his choice of poison, a droplet of which slid out of the corner of his mouth and dribbled down into his facial hair. She could practically hear him slurping, and the sensation prickled on the back of her neck. But her face remained poker perfect, and she briefly revelled in her own magnificence, her back and shoulders straightening like a panther on the prowl.

The German professor attempted to break the eye contact to resume casually chatting with Camille, but Shego refused to release him from her vengeful gaze. She needed him to know how very serious his error in judgement had been, and how deadly his next mistake would be. As she passed the northeast double doors, she released him to note peripheral movement. The filtration of suits and citizens from supervillians was almost finished. If her suspicions were correct, and she had no doubt they were, the room was about to find out what Go City's finest thought they were going to do with a flock of tipsy evildoers. Idiots.

When Shego looked back, Dementor had slithered away, so efficiently there was no obvious visual indication as to which way he had gone. But it mattered very little to the green woman now, as her message had been made quite clear. And the imminent police shitstorm was neither the time nor the place for her personalized flavor of vindication. Smoothly sidestepping, she moved against Drakken and clasped her hand around his arm.

"Doctor D," She said firmly in his ear, "Time to go."

"What? Already?" The blue man whined. "But I'm having fun!"

"Remember what we talked about in the car?" Shego growled and began to pull him towards the stage. "I said we could stay long enough to find out if it's a trap."

"Yes, yes," He grumbled, trying to get the last icy chunks from the bottom of his daiquiri.

"Oh. So it's..."

"Doy."

"Are you sure? Everyone here has been so friendly." Drakken's targeted lump of syrupy goodness finally dislodged from the bottom of his glass and hit him in the face.

"Oh I'm sure..." She continued as she pulled him behind the curtain. The noise behind them suggested that the rest villain community had just figured out the Go City department of public safety hadn't been entirely honest with them, despite their friendly and decorative invitations. "Definitely a trap. Sorry D, it's gonna take a lot more than saving the planet from aliens to change the nature of the judicial system."

"But...but...they gave me an award!"

"Uh huh, less talky more climby."

Behind the clutter of the backstage area, Shego pointed to a ladder and dragged the good doctor towards it. He began to climb obediently, and then looked down.

"I don't have to give it back, do I...?"

"Shut up and go!"

"Geez, you don't have to get snippy about it..."

"Remind me again why I didn't just leave you in space?"

"You know, I've been wondering that myself." Drakken mused as he opened the rooftop hatch and climbed out, turning to offer Shego his hand. She swatted him away and pulled herself up the remainder of the ladder of her own volition. Helicopter blades had begun to drown out the ambient city noise as she pulled herself onto the roof.

Shego heard the shot despite the close-range roar of slicing air, and lunged towards Drakken, grabbing him by his jacket and rolling hard to her left. Something landed on the back of her shoulder, sending pain shooting from the point of impact all the way to her toes. Springing to her feet, she ignored the rush of blistering heat through her veins and the sensation that her fingers were splitting apart to look up at the same greasy grin she had just finished nonverbally threatening.

"Zat is two for me now, Fräulein Shego!" Dementor cackled from the open belly of a police helicopter high above the rooftop, clearly being piloted by a masked Henchco thug. Someone from the inside of the craft took the device he'd fired at her and switched it out for a proper rifle, which he levelled not on her head, but on Drakken's.

"Now run, liebes Kätzchen, run!"

"Shego...?" Drakken whimpered as he laid stunned and confused on the rooftop.

"Get to the hovercraft, you idiot!" She snarled at him, her hands igniting in a blaze of both pain and relief as she flung the balls of green destruction at Dementor's helicopter. The professor swore and flew backwards as one well-placed plasma ball slammed into the side of the vehicle, causing it it to waver with impact. With Dementor distracted, Shego ran to Drakken's hovercraft in time to slide into the passenger's seat before it lifted off.

"What the hell was that about?" Drakken demanded as he quickly gathered altitude, his mouth still stained pink from his earlier libations.

"Shut up and drive!" She spat, turning in her seat and making sure the professor's helicopter wasn't following. Then she reached over her left shoulder, dug her fingernails into the foreign object attached to her skin and pulled as hard as she could. Compared to the rest of the throbbing and searing occurring in her extremities, the sensation of the object tearing her flesh as she dislodged it wasn't exceptional. That wasn't to say it didn't hurt, as the hot, wet trickle down her back and in her eyes gave plenty of indication to the contrary. She held the thing in her palm, no bigger than a quarter, with four spider-like legs extending from a central core. And much like a spider, it curled its legs inward, flipped over and died moments after she wrenched it free of her skin.

"So...what is that?" Drakken began again, cautiously. "Some kind of tracking device?"

"I don't know," She replied, before doubling over with another rush of heat and vertigo. Drakken recoiled as he noted that her hands were still glowing brightly and beginning to singe the hovercraft's interior.

"Shego?"

"I think...I'm gonna be sick..."

***

"That's one of the last things I remember." Shego concluded, "It was like the entire world just got fucked in the ear. The next thing I know I'm in a parking lot with the world's worst case of cotton mouth."

Kim suspected that the remaining details, specifically the ones that involved exploding buildings and an expired bathrobe, had been deliberately left out. But she gave the green woman the benefit of the doubt, that she had done so to preserve a bit of dignity rather than to withhold important information, and didn't breech the subject. Instead, she reached for Kimmunicator, muted it and again tucked it away without answering it. Shego quirked a brow.

"So, princess...why were you in Go City?"

"Oh, volunteer work. Why?"

"So they put Middleton back together that fast? Goddamn."

"Well, yes and no. Middleton's in good hands, so when Wade said they needed cleanup help in Go, I went."

Shego made a sound through her nose that sounded distinctly like she was calling bullshit. Kim moved to ask, but before she was able, Wade invited himself into the conversation.

"Kim, I got a few hits back on the identity of that eighteen-wheeler."

"Go ahead," She replied, retrieving the device so she could look at her friend as he spoke.

"The trucks themselves look like they belong to a lesser-known subsidiary of HenchCo, but that's not the crazy part. The container from the truck you're in is an exact match to the truck that got away from you and Ron up at Blue Mesa."

"The one that was used in the storage facility robbery?"

"That's the one. But, there's more. There have been at least four other reported cases of the exact same kind of theft, all within the last six hours. New Mexico police apprehended one down in Aztec, but by the time they had, the whole load had been cleaned out."

Kim chewed her lower lip. "So whoever wants the cargo is intercepting the trucks and cleaning them out before they can get to wherever they're going?"

Wade nodded. "That or the thieves are being stolen from."

"So by that logic," Shego commented, "We should be running into some really pissed off traffickers pretty soon."

"I'd say there's a pretty good chance," Wade agreed.

"That still doesn't explain why they would want to kidnap us..." Kim thought aloud.

"Well, after we find them and put the fear of god into them, let's remember to ask." Shego suggested.

Kim's grin widened as she turned to look at Shego. "What's this 'we' all of a sudden, do I get to play now too?"

"Still not friends." Shego insisted.

Kim rolled her eyes. "No, of course not."

**Author's Note:**

> So what'd you think? This is my first attempt at KP fic, so any comments are welcome!


End file.
